


Coffee Crash

by Closeted_Bookworm



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dr. Iplier doesn't take care of himself, Fluff, M/M, The Host is a painter, developing crush, sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-02-22 22:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23968000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Closeted_Bookworm/pseuds/Closeted_Bookworm
Summary: The Host finds Dr. Iplier sleeping in a strange place, and thinks it's adorable.
Relationships: The Host/Dr. Iplier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	Coffee Crash

**Author's Note:**

> As far as the Host's powers go, they work the same as they do in Doctor_Discord's Ego Manor series; if you're looking for a one shot _god,_ you should check that out.

“Dr. Iplier?” The Host walked through the door of the office in the back of his clinic, here for his daily bandage change. His quiet narrations told him that the office was empty, though. Normally, the doctor was sitting at his desk, filling out paperwork or drafting emails, but today he was nowhere to be found. Walking back to the front desk, he asked the receptionist where the doctor was at the moment. 

“Maybe try the examination rooms? He doesn’t have anything scheduled at the moment, but he might be there.”

He politely thanked her and headed back to look for him. The first three rooms were empty, but his narrations told him the fourth room wasn’t empty. He rapped on the door, but got no response. Pushing open the door, his Sight flashed and he saw Dr. Iplier sprawled on the exam table, down for the count. A slight blush dusted the Host’s cheeks as the doctor let out a small snore. 

He had to admit that the doctor looked rather adorable asleep. While awake he was sarcastic, dry, and largely unapproachable, but with his eyes closed he looked serene and tranquil, like all the stress had drained out of him. He looked so peaceful that the Host didn’t have the heart to wake him. He’d just get Google to help him with his bandages, the android had done it on the few occasions the doctor had been unavailable. 

The Host suspected Dr. Iplier’s current state was the result of a caffeine crash. He was known to stay up for days on end, veins flooded with coffee and jittery as all get-out, but somehow extremely productive. He would stay up until he literally couldn’t anymore, and then his brain would perform some sort of forced shut down and he would collapse in sleep almost where he stood. The Host tried to keep him from doing it, and Dr. Schneeplestein was constantly lecturing him on the importance of a proper sleep schedule, but the doctor stubbornly ignored their advice. So, occasionally, situations like this would happen; they exasperated the Host, but somehow he rather liked helping a doctor so tired he was delusional to find his way to his bedroom. 

He crafted a down-stuffed pillow out of magic, gently tucking it under Dr. Iplier’s head. He was struck with the strange urge to kiss the doctor’s forehead, which he shook off. That would just be strange for both of them. 

Closing the door gently behind him, he waved goodbye to the secretary, telling her where the doctor was, and headed back towards home His narrations told him about the beautiful summer sky and the flowers growing in window boxes, ducking and bobbing their pastel heads in the breeze like they wanted to greet him. The Host could picture the scene perfectly in his mind, and his fingers itched to grab his brushes and transfer it to a fresh canvas. Another image pushed to the front of his mind, one of a certain ego draped across a thinly padded table, a single lock of dark, curly hair hanging in front of his eyes and mouth slightly agape. The Host smiled to himself. Maybe the flowers could wait. 

When the doctor dragged himself through the front door at ten o’clock at night, dead on his feet, the Host was waiting for him, sitting in his seat at the kitchen table and writing rapidly in a leather-bound journal. He closed it as the doctor came in, cutting off his beeline for the coffee maker. 

“No,” he told the other firmly. “Dr. Iplier does not need coffee. He needs proper rest.”

“But I wanna-”

“Go to bed, or the Host will make you.” He took the doctor by the shoulders and steered him towards the staircase. “The doctor must take care of himself.”

“Fiiiine.” Dr. Iplier dragged his feet the entire way, but he did start going upstairs. Halfway up, he paused and turned back towards the Host. “Nancy told me I was asleep when you dropped by the clinic earlier. Thanks for the, uh, pillow.”

The Host grinned. “It was no trouble. Dr. Iplier is as cute as a kitten when he sleeps.”

The doctor flushed bright red and rushed the rest of the way upstairs, leaving the Host chuckling to himself as he gathered up his pen and notebook. He had a portrait to work on.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little drabble because I think these two are cute. They're not in a relationship here, but each is definitely attracted to the other.


End file.
